PROLOGUE

CHAPTER FIVE –

CHAPTER FIVE –

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He stood outside, next to the village road, warming himself in the sun. Today’s weather was a stark contrast to yesterday’s, and he was glad of it.

He decided after a while that he was wasting time. He needed to be doing something productive. Food was a major necessity right now, so he decided to find his cane pole and go fishing. Grilled fish was one of his favorite meals.

Walking around the back of the house, he saw the cane pole laying on the ground next to the wall where he’d left it. But unfortunately, it was charred completely black. He picked it up, and it crumbled in his hands.

So much for that.

Then he noticed the brand new, metallic pole that Jackson had given him lying on the ground a few feet from where his cane pole sat.

I’d forgotten all about this!

He picked it up. It was in surprisingly good condition, besides some scratches on the rod. He was in luck.

Smiling, he ran toward the lake. He could already taste a juicy, flame-grilled salmon. Soon enough, he reached the sandy bank.

He was just about to cast it when he realized there wasn’t anything on the end of his line.

No problem.

He put the pole down and began searching the ground until he found what he was looking for. A stick. Breaking off a tiny piece, he tied it onto the end of his line.

Then, he put his rod down again and lifted a large rock near him. A big, fat worm sat underneath it. He picked it up quickly, not allowing it to escape into the earth. He then pierced into it with the tiny nub of a stick on his line. He made sure it was secure, then cast it into the water. This was something his father had taught him. If the fish swallowed the bait, the twig would get stuck, allowing him to reel it in with a minimal chance of the fish escaping.

He hoped it would work now.

Not more than a few minutes later, he felt a tug. His pole bent down, and his line took off like an arrow. He had something big.

Reeling in as fast as he could, he saw his massive fish leap out of the water. It was the biggest salmon he’d ever seen! He reeled even faster. He couldn’t wait to see it up close. After what seemed like forever, he finally got it on the bank.

Big was an understatement. It was humongous. He measured it with his pole. The length of the rod he knew was four feet, so he laid it next to the fish, and seeing it was exactly half the pole’s height, he determined the fish’s length was about two feet.

Wow!

Its lower body was gray transitioning into white, with pinkish-red spots running below its lateral line. The upper body was entirely green, with black speckles. The mouth of this beautiful fish appeared similar to the beak of a bird. Though he’d caught many of these before, it always amazed him how many different attributes this fish had.

He pinned it down, preventing it from flopping back in the water. He then took a large rock and struck it in the head, knocking it unconscious.

The first time he’d watched his father do it, he asked “Why did you do that?!” The answer had surprised him. “It’s better for the fish to get knocked out than to feel extreme pain as we filet it.”

He cut the line with his teeth, then picked up the lifeless fish and his pole and headed home.

Today is a good day.

Once he got back to the old house, he put the fish down, removed the loose floorboard, and dropped down into the secret room. He grabbed the golden sword from the corner and climbed back outside.

Using the blade, he cut deep into the skin of the fish, behind the pectoral fins. He then made another incision behind the anal fin. After doing so, he turned the blade ninety degrees inside the first cut and cut along the rib cage, connecting the two incisions. Now he took the thick piece of meat and laid it aside. Then he turned the fish over and did the same thing on the other side.

It was a good thing his father had taught him this, also.

After removing the second fillet, he took the remaining carcass and tossed it away from his house. A cat would eat it eventually. There were three village cats that he knew of, and all of them preferred to remain out of sight. Most of the time, anyway. They had to eat and drink, of course.

Now the only thing left to do was to cook the fillets.

Finding some sticks outside on the ground from nearby oak trees, he took and laid them in a crisscross pattern on the grass outside the house. Then he stood there, thinking of how to start a fire.

Theo had shown him how to start one with a piece of flint and a steel ingot, but he didn’t have either one. He’d also learned to start one using a stick and a plank, but that would take a long time.But better late than never, he supposed.

He removed the floorboard that hid his secret room and took it back to his pile of sticks. He then laid it down on the ground. Taking the largest and thickest stick from the pile, he forced its tip against the plank. Then, putting his hands around the top, he moved them back and forth, rapidly twisting the stick.

After a few minutes of doing this without ceasing, he saw a tiny puff of smoke emerge from the small hole he’d drilled in the plank. It was working faster than expected.

He kept twisting the stick, even though his arm muscles were tired. He knew that it wouldn’t be long until it would be ready to catch fire.

A few seconds later, he finally removed the stick and laid it next to him. Then he shoved the plank underneath the pile of sticks and quickly began fanning it with his tunic.

Before long, smoke began billowing from the plank. Then, a flame shot upward and the sticks caught fire.

He knew that this small pile of twigs wouldn’t last long, so he threw the larger stick beside him into the fire. He didn’t need it to burn for long, just enough to cook his dinner, so he wasn’t worried about firewood.

The sun was already setting. The night was quickly approaching, and he didn’t like it. Not at all.

Relax. As long as I’m near the fire I’ll be safe.

He breathed deeply, calming himself. Night made him especially nervous after what happened to the village. The thoughts of zombies ambushing him out in the open sent chills up his back.

Once I eat I’ll feel better.

He picked up the fillets and laid them close to the fire.

He hadn’t realized how hungry he was. His stomach growled loudly, urging him to eat. It had been a full day since he’d eaten.

I’ve got to do something about this food problem.

But he was too tired to do anything about it now.

Sitting next to the fire, he thought of the future. He wondered if he would live like this for the rest of his life, working from sunrise to sunset trying to stay alive.

No, he decided he wouldn’t live like this forever. But where could he go?

He’d think about it in the morning. The fish would be done soon, and all he wanted to do at the moment was eat.

=======================================

He stood outside, next to the village road, warming himself in the sun. Today’s weather was a stark contrast to yesterday’s, and he was glad of it.

He decided after a while that he was wasting time. He needed to be doing something productive. Food was a major necessity right now, so he decided to find his cane pole and go fishing. Grilled fish was one of his favorite meals.

Walking around the back of the house, he saw the cane pole laying on the ground next to the wall where he’d left it. But unfortunately, it was charred completely black. He picked it up, and it crumbled in his hands.

So much for that.

Then he noticed the brand new, metallic pole that Jackson had given him lying on the ground a few feet from where his cane pole sat.

I’d forgotten all about this!

He picked it up. It was in surprisingly good condition, besides some scratches on the rod. He was in luck.

Smiling, he ran toward the lake. He could already taste a juicy, flame-grilled salmon. Soon enough, he reached the sandy bank.

He was just about to cast it when he realized there wasn’t anything on the end of his line.

No problem.

He put the pole down and began searching the ground until he found what he was looking for. A stick. Breaking off a tiny piece, he tied it onto the end of his line.

Then, he put his rod down again and lifted a large rock near him. A big, fat worm sat underneath it. He picked it up quickly, not allowing it to escape into the earth. He then pierced into it with the tiny nub of a stick on his line. He made sure it was secure, then cast it into the water. This was something his father had taught him. If the fish swallowed the bait, the twig would get stuck, allowing him to reel it in with a minimal chance of the fish escaping.

He hoped it would work now.

Not more than a few minutes later, he felt a tug. His pole bent down, and his line took off like an arrow. He had something big.

Reeling in as fast as he could, he saw his massive fish leap out of the water. It was the biggest salmon he’d ever seen! He reeled even faster. He couldn’t wait to see it up close. After what seemed like forever, he finally got it on the bank.

Big was an understatement. It was humongous. He measured it with his pole. The length of the rod he knew was four feet, so he laid it next to the fish, and seeing it was exactly half the pole’s height, he determined the fish’s length was about two feet.

Wow!

Its lower body was gray transitioning into white, with pinkish-red spots running below its lateral line. The upper body was entirely green, with black speckles. The mouth of this beautiful fish appeared similar to the beak of a bird. Though he’d caught many of these before, it always amazed him how many different attributes this fish had.

He pinned it down, preventing it from flopping back in the water. He then took a large rock and struck it in the head, knocking it unconscious.

The first time he’d watched his father do it, he asked “Why did you do that?!” The answer had surprised him. “It’s better for the fish to get knocked out than to feel extreme pain as we filet it.”

He cut the line with his teeth, then picked up the lifeless fish and his pole and headed home.

Today is a good day.

Once he got back to the old house, he put the fish down, removed the loose floorboard, and dropped down into the secret room. He grabbed the golden sword from the corner and climbed back outside.

Using the blade, he cut deep into the skin of the fish, behind the pectoral fins. He then made another incision behind the anal fin. After doing so, he turned the blade ninety degrees inside the first cut and cut along the rib cage, connecting the two incisions. Now he took the thick piece of meat and laid it aside. Then he turned the fish over and did the same thing on the other side.

It was a good thing his father had taught him this, also.

After removing the second fillet, he took the remaining carcass and tossed it away from his house. A cat would eat it eventually. There were three village cats that he knew of, and all of them preferred to remain out of sight. Most of the time, anyway. They had to eat and drink, of course.

Now the only thing left to do was to cook the fillets.

Finding some sticks outside on the ground from nearby oak trees, he took and laid them in a crisscross pattern on the grass outside the house. Then he stood there, thinking of how to start a fire.

Theo had shown him how to start one with a piece of flint and a steel ingot, but he didn’t have either one. He’d also learned to start one using a stick and a plank, but that would take a long time.But better late than never, he supposed.

He removed the floorboard that hid his secret room and took it back to his pile of sticks. He then laid it down on the ground. Taking the largest and thickest stick from the pile, he forced its tip against the plank. Then, putting his hands around the top, he moved them back and forth, rapidly twisting the stick.

After a few minutes of doing this without ceasing, he saw a tiny puff of smoke emerge from the small hole he’d drilled in the plank. It was working faster than expected.

He kept twisting the stick, even though his arm muscles were tired. He knew that it wouldn’t be long until it would be ready to catch fire.

A few seconds later, he finally removed the stick and laid it next to him. Then he shoved the plank underneath the pile of sticks and quickly began fanning it with his tunic.

Before long, smoke began billowing from the plank. Then, a flame shot upward and the sticks caught fire.

He knew that this small pile of twigs wouldn’t last long, so he threw the larger stick beside him into the fire. He didn’t need it to burn for long, just enough to cook his dinner, so he wasn’t worried about firewood.

The sun was already setting. The night was quickly approaching, and he didn’t like it. Not at all.

Relax. As long as I’m near the fire I’ll be safe.

He breathed deeply, calming himself. Night made him especially nervous after what happened to the village. The thoughts of zombies ambushing him out in the open sent chills up his back.

Once I eat I’ll feel better.

He picked up the fillets and laid them close to the fire.

He hadn’t realized how hungry he was. His stomach growled loudly, urging him to eat. It had been a full day since he’d eaten.

I’ve got to do something about this food problem.

But he was too tired to do anything about it now.

Sitting next to the fire, he thought of the future. He wondered if he would live like this for the rest of his life, working from sunrise to sunset trying to stay alive.

No, he decided he wouldn’t live like this forever. But where could he go?

He’d think about it in the morning. The fish would be done soon, and all he wanted to do at the moment was eat.